With Christmas four days away, I thought that maybe it was time to put up the Christmas tree.
(I mean, don’t even wait by your mailbox for our holiday card. They are sitting in a box on our front stoop. Feel free to come by and pick one up.)
We did buy a tree and then of course realized that our tree stand had been swept away by the hurricane. So we ran out and bought a new one for only 10 dollars! Apparently, the manufacturer saves money by making it almost impossible to get the screws through the dumb plastic holes. But bless his Jewish heart, Rick kept at it and a short Why-Did-I-Marry-A-Christian-Woman 45 minutes later, our tree was standing!
The following night, I tackled the lights. I’m very organized about the lights. I keep them in separate bags and test each strand before hanging them. But then I lost focus.
I started with the wrong end so by the time I had wound five strands of lights around the tree and ended up at the outlet, I couldn’t plug in the tree and Christmas lights are way less festive when you can’t turn them on. (If that sentence was confusing, do not re-read it. All you need to know: I f*cked up the lights.)
Rick wants me to point out at this point in the story that this is never a problem with a Menorah.
Anyway, I finally redid the lights and the tree just sparkled as the scent of evergreen wafted through the air. I’m surprised Michael Bublé didn’t pop up from behind the couch and start singing holiday melodies.
After the light debacle, the girls only had about 11 minutes to hang ornaments. It was already an hour past their bedtime. I rushed them upstairs, got their teeth brushed and as I was pulling down their covers (okay, maybe reorganizing their covers because their bed was never made in the first place), I hear Dylan on the phone.
ON THE PHONE. AN HOUR PAST HER BEDTIME.
“Dylan, what is going on? Who are you calling?! Get off the phone. Get in bed.”
“I’m leaving a message for Daddy.”
“DYLAN!! GET OFF THE PHONE!! IT IS SO LATE. YOU ARE REALLY MAKING ME ANGRY. GET IN BED!!!” I yelled.
Later that night, Rick said, “Dylan left me the sweetest message earlier. You should hear it.”
“Oh yes, I was yelling at her for being on the phone.”
Dylan’s message: “Daddy, we just decorated the tree! It was so much fun. I loved it. Wait until you get home and see it. It’s beautiful.”
Oh man, I got mad at her after that?!
And she’s right. It is beautiful.
I love the lights. And all the ornaments like the one that says “Presley’s First Christmas” even though we later changed her name to Summer. And the fact that Chase keeps pulling off the ornaments and throwing them across the room like they are baseballs. And that my husband is just a little scared of the Elf on a Shelf. And because I swear I can hear Michael Bublé behind the couch.
It’s just so nice to be home.
mama bird notes:
This post is sponsored by T Mobile. T-Mobile decided to surprise shoppers at a Chicago area mall with a surprise performance and updated spin on a holiday classic. I love stuff like this. Take a look…
Also, this post contained a LED Lights Warehouse link. Thank you to them for helping sponsor this post.